


If that's what you need

by Ischa



Series: Definition of destiny-Series [6]
Category: Heroes - Fandom, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night out: blood, sex and violence.<br/><i>Damon laughs again. “You really are more fun when Peter is not around...”<br/>Sylar looks sharply at him. “You think that now, but I warn you, I will rip your heart out and burn the rest of you to ashes without a second thought if you touch him the wrong way. And I'll do it with my mind.”<br/>“I always touch him the wrong way and you love to watch,” Damon purrs. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	If that's what you need

**Title:** If that's what you need  
 **Pairing:** Sylar/Damon  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** A night out: blood, sex and violence.  
 _Damon laughs again. “You really are more fun when Peter is not around...”  
Sylar looks sharply at him. “You think that now, but I warn you, I will rip your heart out and burn the rest of you to ashes without a second thought if you touch him the wrong way. And I'll do it with my mind.”  
“I always touch him the wrong way and you love to watch,” Damon purrs. _  
**Warning(s):** sex, violence  
 **Author’s Notes:** Set after Live forever. Also: part of the 13 days to Samhain ficathon.  
 **Word Count:** 1.694  
 **Beta:** stones_at_moons  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
Damon takes him apart and doesn't put him together again. That's just not Damon's thing.

“At least your skin is feeling normal again,” he says from the windowsill, smoking a cigarette. Sylar keeps silent. Damon can hear him breathing, it's kind of distracting. “Where have you been?” he asks after a while.

“I've seen the future,” Sylar answers. Damon turns to look away from the night sky and at him.

“I guess it wasn't pretty,” it's not a question. Damon exhales smoke and watches it disappear into the air.

“When you’ve lived for centuries, is the future ever what you expect?” Sylar asks, sitting up. The sheets slip and Damon takes a moment to watch the bite-marks and bruises disappear. It's really a shame. He can't mark anyone he fucks these days. Peter is out of question, because he's so fragile and when they do play rough it's always with Sylar's power to keep Peter safe. It's no fun at all.

“No,” he says. Sylar nods. “You've seen the future before, what was this one about?” What he means is: _why was this one different?_ But he doesn't think he needs to say it. Sylar can ignore it; it's a game after all. A struggle for control and power. They are both bound to lose.

“Us,” Sylar says.

“Ah...” Damon takes another drag. He understands perfectly. That's what makes the difference here. It's always like this. “And by us you mean Peter,” he adds.

Sylar gives him a look and then smiles. Damon doesn't like that one in particular. It’s Sylar's ‘I figured you out smile’. He actually hates that one.

“Someone messed you up, pretty bad, hmm?” he asks.

Damon turns and watches the night outside while he smokes the rest of his cigarette. Yeah, someone did, but he isn't going to share his deepest pain with Sylar of all people. It's bad enough that Stefan knows this shit about him, and Elena.

“I need to kill something really badly,” he says instead. He hears Sylar get up and dress.

“I'm coming with.”

Damon doesn't think it's because he wants to keep Damon in check.

 

~2~  
Damon knew that Sylar was a hunter at heart, he just didn't really see Sylar stalk prey and hunt it down.

“Peter will be so disapproving of this,” he says with a laugh. Sylar lets the body fall to the ground and wipes away the blood from his cheek. Her blood is everywhere on the ground, still pouring out of her veins. The smell makes him hungry.

“You gonna tell him?”

“Some day, sure,” Damon says easily, “Didn't think you would be so good at this,” he remarks.

“My old man was kind of a hunter...”

“Runs in the family, hmm?”

“Like killing for fun,” Sylar nods.

“You aren't really killing for fun,” Damon answers. Not yet or anymore, he thinks. He takes out his crumpled pack of cigarettes and lights one. Sylar waves his finger and the cigarette lands in his hand.

“Thanks,” he says. “Just what I needed.”

Damon laughs again. “You really are more fun when Peter is not around...”

Sylar looks sharply at him. “You think that now, but I warn you, I will rip your heart out and burn the rest of you to ashes without a second thought if you touch him the wrong way. And I'll do it with my mind.”

“I always touch him the wrong way and you love to watch,” Damon purrs. His tone dangerous, he is pissed off. He usually is when someone tells him he isn't the...what the hell ever. And the blood from the dead woman makes things worse.

“This is not a fucking game,” Sylar says dangerously calm.

Damon smirks. “Everything is a game.”

Sylar is on him in a flash, he's pinned to the wall and no one is touching him. That's totally cheating he thinks and says it.

“Villain,” Sylar answers and kisses him hard. He tastes blood – and it's not his own. Sylar laughs and lets him go. “I need to kill something for fun...” he says.

Damon agrees.

 

~3~  
“This mind control thing is pretty cool,” Sylar says.

“A vampire thing, you can't rip it out of my head,” he answers lazily. Sylar nods, but Damon knows it doesn't mean he won't try one sunny day. “One day we’ll sit on piles of corpses...” he says. The _‘because we can’t die’_ goes unsaid.

Sylar laughs. “I don't think so, they rot pretty fast.”

“Bones then,” Damon says.

The girl in the corner whimpers. Damon looks at her sharply and she tries to shy away. She can't; she’s already pressed against the wall.

“I like to listen to them,” Sylar admits.

“I don't. It kind of annoys me,” Damon answers. “Not the screaming, that's okay, the begging. Just rubs me the wrong way.”

Sylar laughs again. The boy groans as he comes to his senses. Sylar wouldn’t have gone for a couple, but he doesn’t mind either. And Damon seems to have fun: terrorizing and drinking.

“I usually don’t take my time, you know? I just tell them what I’m going to do and kill them.”

“That’s why you don’t have fun at all…” Damon answers.

“I have fun,” Sylar protests.

“You had fun, before Peter came along and you and him ‘bounded’,” he makes air quotes with his fingers and Sylar rolls his eyes at him.

“What…?” the boy tries to say and Sylar silences him with a look and some telekinesis.

“Not now. It’s not polite to interrupt a conversation,” he chides and Damon smiles. Maybe Sylar knows how to have fun. “Did I ever tell you about the siblings from Mexico?” he asks.

Damon shakes his head. “Shoot,” he says.

“It was glorious and ended in death…” he shrugs, pours himself a drink and begins to talk.

Damon realises that Sylar is messed up to the core, but he can mask it better, because he always was someone who wanted to be someone else.

 

~4~  
They watch as the small house burns down to the ground. The flames licking their way outside and the smoke so thick it would be impossible to breathe if they were standing closer.

“I like that you can set things on fire with your mind,” Damon admits. He didn’t like that ability in Bonnie, but she always wanted to set _him_ on fire. He thinks it’s understandable.

“It’s handy I guess…”

“And new. Does Peter know about it?” he asks.

“No…that woman I killed tonight? The first one? She could do this,” Sylar says, watching the fire.

“Ah…I knew it wasn’t for fun. You don’t have fun being evil, you think you should, so you try, but what drives you is something else,” he says.

“Let’s go,” Sylar answers, turning away from the nearly burned down house.

Damon doesn’t like when people tell him what to do, but he guesses there is nothing more to do here anyway.

 

~5~  
“He’ll find out what we did. You know that, right?” Damon asks. They’re sitting in a bar, nursing drinks like real people. If he weren’t that good at pretending he would laugh out loud. But his whole life is pretending. Like Sylar’s he realises. Wow, a lot of realisation for one night out, Damon thinks.

“I can shield my mind,” Sylar answers and then: “Oh, right, you’ll let it slip some day.”

Damon nods, he knows himself. He will. He will snap and he will do something stupid. And that will be the end of it all. Sylar leans into him, his breath ghost over Damon’s skin. “You will fuck this up some day,” he says.

“I know, it’s bound to happen. But that was not what you saw, was it?” he asks, turning slightly, so that their lips nearly touch. It’s too intimate for a place like this, but Damon doesn’t give a shit and Sylar doesn’t either. That’s the beautiful thing when you’re in love with a psychopath he thinks and then jerks away, mentally and bodily. What the hell? He doesn’t. He doesn’t love anyone.

“Let’s get out of here, you need something else,” Sylar says throwing money on the counter. Damon doesn’t resist.

They end up in a nice hotel. Damon would be impressed if he were anyone else. As soon as Sylar closes the door, Damon is pinned to the bed. He can’t move at all. His mind tricks won’t work on him – or Peter for that matter – as they’re both wearing verbena. Damon doesn’t like feeling helpless.

“What the hell?” he says.

“Shut up,” Slylar answers and begins to undress. Damon’s clothes are gone in a flash. Telekinesis is really pretty cool - when you aren’t the one pinned to the bed.

“Make me!” Damon bites out. Sylar grins. Clearly he should have seen that one coming. He has no one but himself to blame, Damon thinks.

Sylar takes him apart piece by piece. Like a watch. And he does it literally and with great concentration. He opens Damon’s ribcage and stares at the heart inside, his hands careful and soft. It still hurts like hell. Damon thinks he might black out from the pain. It feels like hours. Might be hours for all he knows. He watches how the flesh, muscles and skin knit together and leave not even a scar behind. He runs his hands over Damon’s too sensitive skin and Damon shivers.

He’s flipped onto his stomach, face down into the soft cushions and doesn’t even have the strength to protest it all. Sylar fucks him with no regard to anything. Let alone discomfort.

When he comes back to his senses he’s bloody and feels bruised and used. Sylar a warm presence beside him: his fingers resting on Damon’s hip. The softest of touches.

Sylar doesn’t ask if he’s feeling better, he doesn’t need to. The thing about Sylar is that he can fix things because he knows how they work. Knows what is wrong with them and how to make it better.

Sylar takes things apart and puts them back together, better, stronger, because that’s what he does. That’s his nature.

~end~


End file.
